


A Reason to Keep You Around

by yossarian359



Series: I'm Still Here [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Ana Amari likes tea, Angst with a Happy Ending, Comfort, F/F, Fluff, Forgiveness, Growth, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Angst, Self-Acceptance, Self-Doubt, and Lena is too sweet for this world!, background Ana/Reinhardt - Freeform, background Pharamercy, change, character archs, coming to terms with past, internalisation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-16
Updated: 2018-02-16
Packaged: 2019-03-19 08:50:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13701069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yossarian359/pseuds/yossarian359
Summary: Widowtracer as witnessed through the eye of Ana Amari as she comes to terms with her past, present, and future.





	A Reason to Keep You Around

The first time I met Lena Oxton, I thought she was too sweet, like the tea she drinks so much. I found it sweet enough as it is; the bergamot takes the edge off the bitterness. However, I routinely watched Oxton adding three sugars to it.

 

I don’t know how she drinks it. Perhaps it is because I was brought up on Egyptian _Saiidi_ ; a tea so bitter that most drown it in cane sugar to make it palatable. I never did, I was used to the bitterness.

 

I remember Lena once tasted the tea I drink. Her eyes watered but, oh, she tried so hard to smile for the sake of politeness!

 

Too sweet… but brave. So brave and determined.

 

She surprised us all after the Slipstream by signing up for the agent program. Lena turned a disability into an advantage. Seeing it not as a loss but an opportunity to make the world good, vowing to help people—to protect people. Only the best people can do something like that... she reminds me of my Fareeha in so many ways. I have to admit they both make me so proud.

 

So... please tell me how a girl so _sweet_ , and so determined to do good, could fall in love with a _murderer_?

 

It was a mission in London only a few months ago. Tracer limped into the Orca out of the heavy evening rain, cradling the wounded body of a vicious killer.

 

She laid her down gently on the cold table, a makeshift medical bed. Lena’s voice shook as she pleaded. “Help her… _please…_ ” Tears ran down her wet cheeks, falling neatly on the cool unconscious face of the monster who took away my eye and who took away my family.

 

Singh, Kimiko, Mirembe… they were just her _appetizers_. How many families did she tear apart with ruthless bloody _murder_? I’d never forgive her for what she did to them—to me. To Fareeha.

 

Angela examined the killer’s wounds with care. She had been shot in her gut… tri-ball, judging by the lacerations. She was bleeding heavily, covered in a cold sweat and she wouldn’t last long without medical attention.

 

I would have let her bleed out on that table. Jack would have told me to put a bullet in her head.

 

“How did this happen?” Angela asked. She was always kind and understanding, her sympathy infinite. Fareeha chose well with her. For as long as I’ve known Angela, she has always let her feelings cloud her better judgement.

 

“Reaper,” Lena said weakly, “Accelerator was shot up, he had me cornered,”  She took a breath and steeled herself, “She, took the bullet for me… saved my life.” Lena spoke with a soft thankfulness; admiration crept into her voice. Admiration for a _murderer_.

 

“Why?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at the killer.

 

“Does it matter?” Lena replied, her eyes were wide and naive. “She needs our help!”

 

Poor sweet girl. The world is too harsh a place for souls as sweet as hers. You’d think after what she had been through she would realise it by now. She needed to be taught a lesson.

 

“That woman lies and manipulates.” I stated. “Every fiber of her being is designed to kill.”

 

“You don’t think I know that?” Lena stood up sharply—so defensive, “After she killed Mondatta? After she tried to kill me... several times might I add.”

 

“She murdered her husband,” I added, voice calm, not rising to meet Lena’s, “Strangled him in his sleep.”

 

“Cap!” She was yelling now, “That wasn’t her! Not really. Not after what Talon did to her... But she can break through it. Her reconditioning must be fading or why the _hell_ would she save my life? If she can break it then we can give a chance at a new life. Don’t you think she deserves it after all she’s been through?”

 

That was the other thing I noticed about Lena Oxton: she was so emotional. She felt so much; if there was someone else in the room hurting, Lena would hurt for both of them. Her heart went out to those who didn’t deserve it, and I had a tiny flash of suspicion that her heart went out to that creature she brought in from the rain.

 

Lena was fooling herself and I couldn’t let continue. You can’t second guess and   I would  never hesitate again with that monster who wears the face of Amélie Lacroix. I won’t let anyone else fall into the spider’s trap.

 

“Do you seriously believe that she _cares_ about you Oxton? She will kill you the first chance she gets. We should lock her up, if not dispose of her now. We should get justice for what she’s done.”

 

My words were harsh, but I thought they were needed. I had to protect what little family I had left.

 

Lena walked into breathing distance of me with purpose, her cheeks still damp from tears, and she spoke through her teeth. “She took a bullet for me Cap, saved my life, and you want to kill her? How bloody _caring_ of you.” I had never seen Lena Oxton speak with so much venom. It startled me.

 

I must’ve not been the only one shocked as Winston placed a hand gently on Lena’s shoulder.

 

“Lena.” Winston said in a soothing tone. She eased into the touch, calming herself and lowering her gaze.

 

“I… I’m sorry Cap. That was unfair… I shouldn’t have…” She trailed off, those beautiful amber eyes looking to the floor in shame.

 

“It’s alright my dear.” I soothed. It was impossible to stay mad at Lena Oxton for more than twenty seconds. “I may have been too harsh…” The question still remained; what do we do with the _Widowmaker_?

 

A small pained whimper left the lips of the woman who used to be Amélie Lacroix.

 

Lena reacted to the sound and moved to her side, lightly grasping one of her hands in a tender motion.

 

“Shh… it’s okay love, I’m here.” The woman gripped Lena’s hand like an anchor. When their eyes met she looked at her like she was the only person in the room; Lena returned the gesture. “Hey.” She said, her voice warm.

 

“ _Lena.”_ Widowmaker said. Lena. Not _‘Tracer’_ , not _‘_ _chérie’_ (the taunt I hear her spit on the battlefield) but Lena—her name.

 

Lena didn’t respond with shock or surprise; instead she lifted her free hand to  stroke the murderer’s cheek with her thumb, “Hey, how’re you feeling?”

 

The assassin tried to speak however she found her voice too weak. Instead she responded by resting her tattooed arm softly on the back of Lena’s head. Just minutes ago, I would have never expected this kindness for a woman who used to be an enemy, not even from Lena Oxton. I felt like I was intruding on a private moment… I almost felt sad for her. Almost.

 

It felt too private, as if we were intruding on a personal moment. They were too close for it just to be comfort or respect. There was something more with the way she touched her… something familiar, personal… Intimate.

 

Puzzle pieces fell into place. All those times Tracer would disappear from missions to _‘chase’_ the Widowmaker... we didn’t question her because she did her job, kept Talon’s crack sniper out of our skies. Now it appears she was chasing her in more ways than one.

 

They were clandestined lovers—foolish girl Oxton. She was in love. The way that pale blue creature looked back at Lena she appeared in love too. I didn’t buy it for a second. Gérard did, and he died because of it. I couldn’t see this ending well.

 

“Just breathe love… Shhh, it'll be alright. I’m here… We’re gonna help you.” Lena forced her gaze away from her wounded lover and pleaded, “We are gonna help her, right?” Her voice meek, daring to hope.

 

As I looked around, I could see the others had realised the nature of their relationship also. _Poor sweet girl_. Lena was being manipulated by a monster.  Angela spoke before I could voice my own thoughts on the matter.

 

“After all she’s been through… I think we owe her that much.” The emotion in her voice was clear. Amélie and Angela were good friends before. It was hard for her to see a friend twisted and perverted into a monster. I know; Amélie was my friend too.

 

But the thing on that metal slab was not Amélie Lacroix.

 

“I know this is hard to accept, especially when that woman wears the face of someone we once knew.” I glanced at Angela who offered a sympathetic look as I spoke,” Amélie Lacroix is dead, she died when she murdered Gérard. Whatever is left is a thing that has torn countless families apart. The person we knew is gone, what is left cannot be trusted.” My words were cold. They needed to be. Their hope was misplaced, their trust waiting to be abused.

 

Winston who had been mostly silent, carefully weighing up options, finally spoke, “But she is still a person nonetheless,” He looked around at us, “If we have the chance to save someone and squander it—we are no better than Talon. Everyone deserves a chance at redemption, even those who have wronged us in the past.” It was clear that last part was directed at me.

 

Angela moved to treat the assassin and Lena breathed a sigh of relief bending her head down to whisper something into the shell of the wounded creature’s ear. I couldn’t make out what she said.

 

Winton held my gaze and it was obvious she could tell I was dissatisfied with the look I shot him, but he had made his decision.

 

I respect Winston for both his intelligence and his qualities as a leader, but he is too soft. He was raised away from the rest of humanity, away from the harsh realities of the world.

 

Though Jack was harsh and world weary and Overwatch still fell apart under his leadership. Albeit, it wasn’t entirely his fault… That thought lingered for a while before I finally let it drop. I didn’t want to think about Jack, Gabriel, _what ifs_ or anything of that nature any more than I had to. The past is prologue, what matters is the future—and that creature in Lena’s gentle arms made me anxious about it.

 

\---

 

I was silent on the journey back to Gibraltar. After witnessing a remarkably tame debriefing session after her initial recovery, it was only a matter of time before found myself pacing up and down Winston’s lab. He was trying to get some work done, however I believe I had more pressing matters.

 

“If you keep doing that you’re going to dig a trench into the ground,” Winston liked to try diffusing people with his humor, a trick he learned from Lena probably. It irked me in that instance when it probably shouldn’t have.

 

“It has been only days since we captured her.” I began.

 

Winston interrupted. “I’d prefer to say we recovered her.”

 

“And you have not listened to _any_ of my advice.”

 

“I have listened to your advice, I’ve just decided not to take it.”

 

Winston replied with a grunt.

 

It wasn’t often that I disagreed with Winston. He was always friendly and reasonable and in the times that I have disagreed with him in the past, he usually had an expert authority on the subject. (I learned the hard way to never do anything asides from nod profusely when he talks about quantum mechanics.)

 

This time _I_ had the authority on the subject. There wasn’t any way that Winston could change my mind on the walking corpse of Lacroix. “You allow an enemy assassin to roam freely around the base.”

 

“She is not our enemy any longer Ana,” He grunted, pushing up his glasses and looking up from his work. He had been trying to avoid an argument, I guess he felt that it was unavoidable now, “Besides she can only go places so long as she is accompanied by—”

 

“—by Lena I know.” I said, finishing Winston’s sentence for him as I felt the frustration of the past days boiling over. I turned away to face the window, not wanting to let Winston see the anger on my face.  “It still amazes me how you have all just accepted her… _relationship_ with _that_ creature. Even giving them quarters together. You, Lucio, Hana, aren’t you at all worried about your friend?”

 

Winston stroked his chin. “I _trust_ Lena. I trust her to make her own decisions. I will trust her judgement with Widowmaker.”

 

“But she could be manipulated, indoctrinated.” I turned around to face him. “Angela’s initial physical tests found nothing, but what if there is something under the skin? What if she is using Lena like a puppet?”

 

“Ana,” He sighed heavily. “There is no evidence to suggest that.”

 

“The fact that she is in love with a monster is evidence enough!” I shouted. Winston shot me a look that said I was being unreasonable. Even if my tone had been aggressive, I knew I wasn’t being unreasonable. He waited for me to take a few deep breaths before I continued.

 

“Consider this: say that you’re right, and I pray that you are. We can rehabilitate that shell of a woman and Lena gets to continue her misguided love affair. Good consequences,” I moved purposefully to meet his gaze, “But what if you’re wrong? What is the price of being wrong? What will it mean for Lena, for us, for this little family we have here? Are you willing to pay that price Winston?”

 

He held my gaze, I had clearly made my point. When it was clear he wasn’t going to budge, I decided to turn to make my way out.

 

“Ana,” He called when I was halfway out the door, “I know this will be hard for you, especially considering what happened in the past… but I do _genuinely_ believe that this is the correct course of action. If we can help one of our greatest enemies become a force for _good_ in the world, then that is a _huge_ victory for what Overwatch stands for.”

 

I wish I could share his optimism.

 

“Maybe so.” What was Overwatch’s mission statement? To fight evil? To protect the innocent. Twenty years ago I might have said that it was to make the world a better place. “But I’m afraid I no longer hold that kind of hope.” _Even if a part of me still yearns for it_ was left unsaid.

 

\---

 

The next month passed slowly for me. Based on what I’d heard from others, Widowmaker seemed to be adapting without incident and I’ll admit that I had been avoiding her.

 

The inevitable confrontation was not something I was looking forward too. What was there to say?

 

How silly the thought. I once _fantasised_ about what it’d be like to bring that woman to justice and have her answer for her crimes. Recently in London, a similar feeling came over me. Now that inclination has faded like the colour of old clothing.

 

I just worried. I’ve always thought of our team as a family, and I care for each member as deeply as I do for Fareeha. Every loss felt like losing a child… and I was so afraid I would lose more to that woman.

 

The sidelong glances I stole—seeing Lena; disarmed, relaxed, even laughing when around Widowmaker—it made me worried. The contrast alone between the two disturbed me, one so cold and emotionless and the other so free and open… How did it even work out?

 

Part of me desperately wanted to grab Lena and tell her to stay away from that dangerous _woman_. I felt as though I couldn’t say or do anything about it, watching her with Widowmaker was like watching a time bomb tick. It made me feel anxious.

 

I felt stuck.

 

Winston was kind enough to lend me Widowmaker’s recon visor to analyse. By now, I must have taken it apart and put it together fifty times. Talon’s engineering was crude but effective. I was once curious enough to put it on.

 

Wearing it was disorientating and painful. Talon didn’t care for such menial things as the well-being of their agents. Still, It was fascinating to look through the Widowmaker’s eyes.

 

Perhaps it was a sad little attempt for me to try and understand the killer. Truth be told I felt that there was no one who would understand what _I_ was feeling.

 

Reinhardt was still away on his expedition in north Africa. Radio silence for months and I missed his personal touch. I missed having someone to talk to who would understand a fellow old soldier.

 

Fareeha and I… We never really had the chance to reconcile after my disappearance. The gap between us felt cold. I should never have let it develop, especially between a mother and daughter. Over my life, I’ve had my fair share of regrets, and I think that my decision to disappear was one of my greatest. The little good I accomplished as the Shrike hardly justified the pain I caused by leaving.

 

The meeting with my daughter was long overdue. I must admit I was quite timid about seeing her properly again. It had been so many years, so much has changed. Was I a stranger to her?

 

Seeing her there smiling at me diffused my initial worries. Still nagging at me was the fact that we didn’t have anything to talk about. It’s hard trying to get to know your daughter.

 

“How’s Angela been treating you?” I asked. A safe start, asking about a mutual friend. Well, _more_ than a friend in Fareeha’s case.

 

My daughter let out a soft laugh, dipping her head to hide her slight blush. “She’s… She’s more than I could ever ask for _ummi_.” Hearing her call me that, something that I haven’t heard in so many years—it made me feel things I wasn’t ready to confront.

 

I deflected with a joke. “That _good_ huh?”

 

“Mother!” She laughed, blushing profusely now. I smiled to myself, she was always too easy to tease.

 

Seeing her laugh so easily made me feel a warmth I didn’t know was needed. “It’s so good to see you happy, Fareeha…” It felt almost awkward trying to find conversation topics. Honestly it was a blessing just to be in her company. How silly it was that neither of us thought to do it sooner.

 

“Thank you ummi. It’s good to see you too.”

 

I smiled into my tea as I stirred it. A brief sadness washed over me, how I missed so much of my daughter’s life, feeling like an outsider.

 

“You’ve chosen well with her—a wiser choice that some others have made recently.”

 

Fareeha’s smile faded slightly. “What do you mean?” She asked, even though she knew who I  was talking about.

 

“Lena,” I said, “I worry about her and that _creature_.” Perhaps that was the wrong choice of word.

 

An uncomfortable silence descended. _How stupid of me._ I should not have brought this up. It was too late now.

 

Fareeha stiffened. “Amélie _loves_ Lena, mother. I didn’t believe it myself until I saw the way she looks at her.”

 

“You call her _Amélie_ now?” I should have stopped right there; just changed the topic and moved on. However, I couldn't contain myself. This had been boiling up like a kettle inside of me as if it were waiting to spew out.

 

“That is what she asked to be called.”

 

“You _spoke_ to her? I asked.

 

“Of course,” Fareeha nearly rolled her eyes, “Lena introduced us, Angela and I had lunch with them and—”

 

“You had _lunch_ with her?” My tone was accusing.

 

“Mother!” She was getting louder. “I am not a _child_ anymore, you don’t get to dictate who I spend my time with. If you gave her a chance, she may surprise you. She certainly did me.”

 

“I don’t doubt it.” I said, sarcasm seeping into my voice.

 

Fareeha took a breath, “Amélie did _not_ kill those people. _Talon_ did. They used her like a weapon,” She leaned in, “When you punish a murderer, do you hang the _weapon_ too?”

 

“No, you just lock it up or _dispose_ of it so it can’t be used to _hurt_ anyone else.” I didn’t know where this was coming from. This vitriolic anger… I thought I buried it. Obviously not as it came pouring out.

 

Fareeha narrowed her eyes at me, “That’s not only _unfair_ , that is _unjust_ ,” She withdrew her posture, her expression became soft, “What happened is so long in the past, you have to let go, maybe not _forgive,_ but just to try and _understand_ and move on, don’t focus on digging up old wounds but instead focus on the _good_ that can come out of this. For both your sakes.”

 

I stared at her in disbelief, “I can’t believe you’re defending the _woman_ who _tore_ our family apart.”

 

Something shifted in Fareeha, “Widowmaker did not tare our family apart, **_you did._ ** ”

 

My tongue felt like it had turned into sand in my mouth. I was stunned—couldn’t move.

 

Fareeha was just as shocked as I, tears began to well in her eyes as her voice dipped low, _too low_ . “You could’ve come back. Papa was so depressed after… he didn’t know what to do. _I_ didn’t know…” She trailed off, sobbing under her breath. Fareeha never cried in public. Never.

 

Regret was biting at me like a spider on the back of my neck. Every sob hurt deeper than the bullet that took my eye. I opened my mouth but no sounds came out, my tongue was ash.

 

“Amélie didn’t have a choice mother,” Fareeha continued, “Not really… but _you_ did. And _you_ chose to abandon the ones _you_ loved—the ones who loved _you_.”

 

The chair screeched against metal as she stood up, “I’m sorry mother I… _I’m sorry._ ” She left quickly, footsteps disappearing down the corridor.

 

I felt glued to my chair, all of Fareeha’s words washing over me.

 

Hours seemed to pass, thoughts and words were a mess in my head, morphing and perverting into others.

 

 _My fault._ All of it. The heartache, the feelings of useless—being a ghost, a _Shrike._ Fareeha was right, I had a choice, and I chose to walk away from everything I loved because I was a _coward._

 

I thought I had failed them before. When I became a ghost however, that is when I really failed them—when I became something that couldn’t protect anyone. Overwatch crumbled when I did, maybe I would've kept Jack and Gabriel together, or at least stopped them from destroying each other—and our family.

 

My head was spinning as I stood up. Not knowing what to do I tried to make my way to my quarters. My hand was trembling as I lifted it to open the door.

 

I took a few deep breaths just to gather my bearings and tentatively pushed the button to open the door.

 

As it slid open, I found myself staring into sharp, _beautiful_ golden eyes. Widowmaker was on the other side.

 

Anger came washing over me and I looked up at her in challenge. She took a step backwards to let me pass, her face still neutral as I walked past her without glancing.

 

Something inside me told me that I should keep walking, leave before I make a scene or I say something regrettable. After what I had just been through… I wanted to _hurt_ someone.

 

I turned as I was halfway down the corridor, “Gérard was a fool to love you.”

 

Widowmaker sighed as she looked up—clearly unimpressed. Her face was cool and neutral, her voice emulated her expression, “So you have said.”

 

“And so is Lena.” I said.

 

She froze, her lips pursed, an emotional response. I pressed on, pushed harder, “You don’t deserve her.”

 

Widowmaker stood there, her eyes wavered as my words sunk in. _I had hit the mark_ , I allowed myself a _sick_ victory grin.

 

Her lips opened to say something, I thought she would reply back, shoot a cutting remark. She closed them.

 

Instead her face retreated to her natural coldness. The uncertainty that was there moments before vanished, “Anything else?” she said, no emotion in her voice.

 

I didn’t reply.

 

Widowmaker clearly didn’t see any more point in this confrontation and left, walking through the door.

 

I returned to my empty quarters and lay on my bed, hollowness spreading through my gut as I stared at the blank ceiling.

 

\---

 

A few days later, I had a _stupid_ idea. Days of mulling around and letting things well put me in a mood where ideas as _stupid_ as this one seemed like sane ones.

 

Lena was taking Widowmaker across the border to Spain for a bit of _R &R. _Apparently they wanted to get away from prying eyes. Who can blame them, considering the nature of their relationship.

 

Something in the back of my head was nagging me to _trail_ them. To observe.

 

It would be amoral, a violation of their privacy. I would be a hypocrite but then again I am already.

 

Part of me had to do it—just to know if they were truly in love. To know whether Widowmaker had indeed _changed_ and was capable of feeling.

 

Or if to know it was all a ruse. If she was a threat, if Lena was in danger.

 

For some reason Fareeha’s words rang in my ears, _‘Give her a chance, she may surprise you’._ I hoped she would—I really did. Things would be nicer that way.

 

I stared at Widowmaker’s recon visor sitting on my desk. While I always protected others, she assassinated them.

 

In my mind, I was doing this to make sure she wasn’t a threat and to make sure Lena was safe. It still felt odd, stalking targets seemed like something Widowmaker would do.

 

Perhaps she and I really weren't too different. Packing her recon visor into my bag was reminiscent of the same actions I practiced and perfected as Shrike. There was even a resemblance in the masks.

 

After fixing her grappling hook to my arm, I slung my _Kinamura_ over my shoulder. Leaving my rifle behind felt like leaving behind a limb so I decided against it.

 

As I moved to leave, I got distracted by a packet of 8.6 millimeter rounds. I don’t know why I still kept those, haven’t used a hard bullet in years.

 

My move to sleep darts and nano syringes was my attempt to let go of the past, to do away with anger and violence and focus on helping people.

 

It made me wonder why I kept a whole box of _lethal_ bullets near my bedside shelf. Perhaps I haven’t left my past behind as much as I wanted to, maybe I never really did.

 

I took one just to be safe and to satisfy the tingling sensation in the back of my head. I tucked it delicately away in my coat pocket; if things went sour, one bullet would be all I need.

 

They took a boat across the bay of Gibraltar to Algeciras, I searched for the destination of the boat and took a bus across the border to the jetty they were landing on. It wasn’t too hard to find them again, Widowmaker’s unnatural blue skin does cause them to stand out. Though she put an attempt to blend in, wearing a purple tinted panama hat accompanied by sunglasses and a matching casual halter dress that Lena must have appreciated.

 

Lena led her around the city as they acted like tourists for a day.

 

I truly felt my age seeing them holding hands in the sun. _Young love_ , I scoffed. However, I found myself smiling.

 

They were quite tame and domestic, Widowmaker’s subdued placid persona complimented Lena’s excitable one. For the first time, I could see how they’d _work_.

 

Fareeha was right, they did look at each other like the world was in their eyes.

 

I have to admit that I’d never thought a smile would look welcome on Widowmaker’s face, despite how subtle it was. She was surprisingly passive, allowing Lena to lead her around, but her affection was genuine.

 

My fears felt silly now. Perhaps I _should_ have given her a chance.

 

Figured I might as well try and enjoy myself for the rest of the afternoon and see the sights. Lena had a pretty good eye for what was exciting and beautiful.

 

After a nice dinner they retreated back to their hotel. I thought about leaving them there as I felt I had seen enough and that any more would be intruding but I noticed through my enhanced eye that Widowmaker was looking uncomfortable, her face contorted. She was holding Lena’s arm tightly as she crossed the road; her knuckles almost white.

 

Something must have happened in the restaurant that I didn’t see. Something not too good from Lena’s worried expression.

 

Against my better judgement I followed them back to the hotel and climbed up to the adjacent building, putting on her recon visor. The infrared vision buzzed on and I managed to spot through the walls two familiar silhouettes entering a room on the top floor.

 

As soon as they entered their room Lena embraced Widowmaker with a tight hug. She weakly hugged back. Obviously something was wrong, I could tell from her body language alone.

 

They decided to call it an early night.

 

After they washed they fell into bed together, lying in each other’s arms. I stayed on that roof for hours. Despite the fact the recon visor was giving me a headache, I couldn’t bring myself to look away from the two orange silhouettes lying lovingly together. In a way it was soothing and comforting. I also felt in my gut that I _needed_ to be there for some reason. Something was going to happen.

 

It was nearly midnight when I saw movement again, Widowmaker was fidgeting slightly in her sleep. She wasn’t awake, must have been a _nightmare._ I doubted that nightmare’s were strangers to this woman, especially now since I’ve witnessed her with Lena.

 

Her movement picked up, something was wrong. This wasn’t an ordinary nightmare.

 

She must have been screaming as Lena shot up in the bed beside her, kind arms rushing to her side.

 

As soon as contact was made that Widowmaker’s body contorted. In an instant she turned around and grabbed Lena’s fragile neck with both hands, strangling her.

 

 _Sleeper agent._ I couldn’t react fast enough. All my fears came flooding back. _This is how she killed Gérard. This is how she will kill Lena._ Even after what I’ve seen today? The love in her eyes.

 

No. It had to be against her will. My heart stung, even so I couldn’t let her take another life.

 

I reached into my pocket and slid the .338 round into my rifle _._ A frustrated grunt left my throat as I didn’t have a clear shot, there was concrete in the way.

 

I unsheathed that _poor monster’s_ grapple and fired it onto their balcony, hoisting myself up.

 

Their curtains were closed, but I could find a shot regardless, thanks to the visor. My rifle shook in my hands but I couldn’t hesitate this time. Not again. Not _ever_ again.

 

“ _LENA!_ ” Widowmaker screamed. She bolted up and moved away from her love, withdrawing completely and looking at her hands like they were _vile_.

 

My finger hovered over the trigger. My mind was was screaming at me to pull it and put a bullet in her skull. _End it now._

 

Something inside me told me to resist it and do the exact thing I told myself I’d never do: hesitate. That voice told me I had to be _sure._

 

I had to be sure that I wasn’t going to _tear_ another family apart.

 

Muffled sobs came through the window, “Lena I…”

 

Widowmaker was _crying_. I thought it wasn’t possible—Talon sealed her tear ducts.

 

Lena moved towards her, Widowmaker moved back, “Stay away from me.” Emotions were dripping from her voice. Lena froze, she didn’t want to startle her.

 

“Why?” She asked, her voice soft and sincere.

 

“I hurt you.” Widowmaker—no, _Amélie_ whimpered.

 

“That wasn’t you was it love?” Lena said.

 

Amélie withdrew into herself,her arms wrapping around her knees in a fetal position _._ “I should leave,” She said suddenly, her voice retreating inside herself, “I don’t want to hurt you Lena, _never_ again. I couldn’t live with myself if…” She trailed off.

 

 _If she killed her_. She couldn’t live with herself if she killed her like she did Gérard. To be afraid that you’d lose control and hurt the ones you love most… _poor girl._

 

I lowered my gun. I couldn’t possibly shoot her, not after hearing this.

 

“That’s outta the question,” Lena said simply. “You’re stuck with me _frenchie_.” Lightness crept into her voice, I could imagine a small smile gracing Lena’s face.

 

I saw her take a tentative step forward, when Amélie didn’t move back she gently stooped down and brought a hand to her side, testing the waters with a touch. Amélie leaned into it tentatively.

 

“Sometimes we hurt the ones we care about,” Lena started, serious now, “But they’ll stick with us no matter what. That’s love innit?”

 

“Mon _coeur,_ ” Amélie relaxed into Lena’s embrace, however her voice was still uncertain. “ _I don’t deserve you.”_

 

My heart dropped at the sound of my words being echoed through her mouth. If I knew how much they would affect her… how _foolish_ I was.

 

Lena didn’t leave her uncertain for long, “You once said that I made you not only _feel_ , but feel _happiness_. Everyone deserves that, no matter what.” She punctuated her sentence with a kiss.

 

Amélie spoke as the kiss broke, “You stuck with me, even when I was a _shell_ of a woman. And after all I’ve done to hurt you… Why? Why did you stay?”

 

“Because I love you, _spider_ ,” She chirped, “And nothin’s gonna change that!

 

“You love me…” She said, as if to reassure herself, tasting the words on her mouth, “You love me _ma_ _chérie_... She— _Ana_ —called you foolish for loving me.”

 

I did call her that. Only now I realise how wrong I was.

 

Lena must have smiled, “You always said that I was a _foolish girl._ ” She imitated her silky french accent.

 

Amélie laughed and it was rich and joyous. Lena’s tone dipped again, “Ana doesn’t know you like I do. She doesn’t know how you risked your life for me. How you danced on the edge of incredible pain and suffering just so you could have a chance to feel, a chance to change and to break free from you chains; to become a better person,” She must have kissed her again, “She doesn’t see what I see in you _love._ ”

 

Lena held her like that, gently rocking their bodies like a crib.

 

There was a soft sound. A small melody—a children’s song, like the lullabies I used to sing to Fareeha.

 

It came from Lena’s lips, but the lyrics were in french. Amélie must have taught her.

 

It was soft and sweet, barely a whisper. I couldn’t make out much of the lyrics—it had been a while since I picked up small trickles of the language from Gérard. I remember one part of it though.

 

_...chante, toi qui as le cœur gai._

_Tu as le cœur à rire—moi je l’ai à pleurer..._

 

It moved me, her voice was sobering.

 

I took off Widowmaker’s recon visor and turned around to leave. I had seen enough to put my mind at ease: they were _true_ , she was _genuine_. Fareeha was right again, Amélie did surprise me in all the right ways.

 

The uneasy feeling in my gut however didn’t fade. It was instead replaced by a soft _loathing_ . How _half-witted_ I had been… how _judgmental._

 

I had invaded their privacy, spied on an incredibly personal and _intimate_ moment. And Lena’s words kept going around in my head.

 

I mulled over Lena’s words. _The ones we love stick with us no matter what. That’s love innit?_

 

She said that as if it were the simplest thing in the world and I envied her for it.

 

It should have been the simplest thing, and I had failed to stick with those I loved… I failed not just Fareeha and Sam, but Jack and Gabriel too. I failed Overwatch. I failed my family.

 

I took the boat back the next day ahead of them, they deserved a few more days of vacation. The shame was unbearable; I couldn’t believe I was so close to destroying the tiny _infant_ family they had.

 

When I was back in my room again, I felt stuck. Desperately I wanted to reach out to Fareeha to apologise and tell her what I learnt, how I feel but my mind wouldn’t let me.

 

Thankfully though, a mutual friend of ours gave me a kick in the right direction.

 

“Would you _please_ stop moping around your room, Ana?” Angela stood in the doorframe. She had just extended an invitation for dinner.

 

“Thank you Angela for the offer… However, I don’t think Fareeha wants to see me after my poor behaviour.”

 

“Reeha _is_ the one who offered,” Angela added, “She feels terrible about it, she can’t stop talking about how much she regrets what she said to you and how much she wants to apologise.”

 

“She wants to apologise to me? I don’t deserve it… I don’t deserve _her_ ,” I don’t think I really believed what I was saying. It was most likely the regret talking. “I just wish I had been there when…”

 

 _“Dummkopf!_ ” Angela seemed to have lost her patience with my sulking, “Of course you deserve her! Now and come join your family for dinner, doctor’s orders.”

 

_My family._

 

Warmth flooded back into my limbs as I stood up and strode across the room to give Angela a big motherly hug.

 

“My family.” I said, it didn’t feel real. _“Thank you Angela.”_

 

I smiled into her hair and swore to myself that I will _never_ repeat the mistakes of the past. I truly have a _family_.

 

\---

 

The dinner was lovely, truly more than I could ever ask for. I felt at home, a feeling that had escaped me for years.

 

One more thing still lingered though; Widowmaker, _Amélie_ , I _owed_ her an apology.

 

With our past so damaged as it is, maybe we could never be friends, but perhaps we needn't be enemies.

 

Their vacation lasted another week before they returned. I lingered cautiously outside the door to their room, I felt my nerves acting up. Lena was out for her morning run so I knew _Amélie_ was in there alone.

 

The apology I had rehearsed felt dry, felt _insincere._

 

I always saw myself and _Widowmaker_ as polar opposites, she was everything I was not: I didn’t purposefully wound enemies to draw their friends out of cover, she wouldn’t hesitate if it brought her closer to her target. I considered myself a friendly person with a sense of humor, she was stone cold to the bone. I watched over and protected my team, she stalked and hunted her prey.

 

The last few weeks made me realise that we may have not been so _different_ after all. My actions alone proved that sometimes I could be a no better monster than Widowmaker was.

However the woman on the other side of that door was _not_ Widowmaker, or at least she didn’t want to be her anymore.

 

Somewhat like how I’m not the same person as I was before, and I _despise_ the thought of regressing back into that character. Amélie must have the same fears, especially after what happened with Lena.

 

I tapped by knuckles on the door to knock, and patiently waited for her to come out.

 

The door slid open and golden eyes met my own. “Hello,” I said, “Can I come in?”

 

Amélie looked startled to see me. I couldn’t blame her considering what I said in our last meeting.

 

Nothing else came to my mind so I offered her a cautious smile, it seemed to disarm her enough to let me in.

 

Their room was the same shape and dimensions as any other in the watch-point. Lena however personalised it with posters and pictures of her interests. I think I recognised a couple old English rock bands from my time. There wasn’t much personalisation from Amélie, suppose one must find one’s own person before attempting to personalise a space.

 

“Lena is taking a jog,” She must have caught me gawking, “She will be back later.” _Come back later_ , were her unspoken words. _So she can deal with you and not I._ Her arms were folded, guarded against me. I didn’t feel angry, just sad that things were this way.

 

“Actually I wanted to talk to you, _Amélie._ ” Using her name must have caught her off guard as she slowly dropped her arms from her chest.

 

She was silent, so I continued, “I want to apologise. The things I said—a single apology could never be enough,” Something welled up in my throat, I had trouble keeping my voice steady, “When I said those _horrible_ things to you, I was mad, furious, stuck in the past… I wanted to _hurt_ someone.”

 

I paused to gauge Amélie’s reaction. Her face was blank but her eyes were attentive. It must be uncomfortable for her to express herself emotionally, especially in front of me.

 

“But I realised that all that I thought you were: unloving, cold, uncaring, ruthless… they all could be said of me,” I felt tears pricking in my eye, my breath wavered as I let them fall. “I abandoned my girl, my daughter, my _Fareeha._ I abandoned her when she needed me the most. Everything I said to you—about how you didn’t deserve _Gérard_ , how you don’t deserve _Lena_ , stupid stupid things to say—I said them because I realised _I_ didn’t deserve Fareeha, I didn’t deserve to have a family, and I _hated_ how you seemed to leave your old self behind so easily and start again. I jealous, and so I said those _putrid_ things because I wanted someone to hurt the way I was hurting.”

 

My head felt dizzy so I gently collapsed onto a chair and waited until I stopped crying. “Lena told me once,” _Told you once,_ “That the ones who love you will stick by you through thick and thin. I failed that with my daughter and she gave me a second chance.” I looked up at her and met her lovely golden eyes. “I felt unworthy, like I didn’t deserve it. I even briefly considered leaving again because of it, determined never to hurt her again.” I stood up. “I realise how stupid those thoughts were, and how _foolish_ I was to say that you don’t deserve Lena when you, Amélie, clearly love her with all your heart.”

 

Amélie was silent as she processed my words, I waited patiently. Eventually she pursed her lips ever so gently to talk.

 

“One of my biggest fears is that I will lose control.” Despite seeing her as Amélie instead of Widowmaker for the past week, the _vulnerability_ in her admission surprised me. She continued, “In such a short space of time I have begun to feel things I could not comprehend.” She took her time searching for the words.

 

“Sometimes these new feelings overwhelm me, and I am so _afraid_ that I could lose control and hurt the ones that matter. What you said, about how I didn’t deserve Lena, it _hurt._ ” Her eyes were wet. “It _hurt_ and I didn’t know what to do. When I was with Talon, I would go to get these feelings _wiped,_ it was easier that way. But now that I _want_ to feel… I was not prepared for things to hurt so much.”

 

Though the lines on her face were smooth and subdued, I could tell that she was letting a lot of emotion out. I felt privileged to witness it, that she’d be willing to trust me enough to show me, even after all that’s happened.

 

“Lena made me realise that _despite_ what I have done in the past—even if I was not fully in control—I shouldn’t be ashamed to be loved, or to be happy.” A small smile graced her lips. “Perhaps you and I aren’t so different, Ana Amari.”

 

I chuckled and smiled back. “We are both loved, even if we feel like we don’t deserve it.”

 

“ _Oui_ , we are.”

 

Nothing more felt like it needed to be said. So I thanked her for her openness and offered her one last apology. I think she realised like I did that we may never truly be friends, but at least we were not enemies anymore.

 

The smile did not leave my face as I exited the room.

 

I think it was right there when I _finally_ realised that we all deserve a family, no matter what.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to all who helped me out on this little story.  
> Hope you enjoyed reading!
> 
> -Yoss


End file.
